A Partridge in A Parasitic Weed
by LondonGirl27
Summary: Mistletoe, munchkins, and Mode…oh my: Two weeks before Christmas, Betty finds herself dealing with a little more stress than she can handle. A D/B fic. AU. Takes place sometime after the Season 2 episode “Bananas for Betty" but before "Zero Worship".


**Title:** A Partridge in A Parasitic Weed

**Pairing:** Daniel/Betty

**Rating:** T (just in case, but it's really K+)

**Summary:** Mistletoe, munchkins, and Mode...oh my: Two weeks before Christmas, Betty finds herself dealing with a little more stress than she can handle.

**Timeline:** AU; Takes place sometime after the Season 2 episode "Bananas for Betty" but before "Zero Worship".

**Disclaimer:** I'm sorry to say that I neither own the show nor any of its characters.

**A/N: **So, Christmas is done and over with, but better late than never, right? LOL. I'm hoping that some of you are still in the mood for a holiday fic(?). Just so you know, there are mentions of Henry in this fic, but I can assure you that it is a D/B story.

As a sidenote, this fic is not connected to my other story, "Snuggling Charles Dickens". For those who are following that one, I just want you to know that I haven't abandoned it (nor do I intend to), and I definitely will be finishing the last chapter for that fic. I just wanted to take a small detour and write this, especially since it's my gift to a friend. (TrixieFirecracker, thank you for your friendship and all of your support. I hope you'll like the finished product!)

So, here we go...

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_Okay. I'm ready…I think._

Dressed in a bright green sweater and a black skirt, Betty grimaced at her reflection in the bedroom mirror as she turned from side to side.

_Maybe I should wear my snowman sweater... _Again, she turned to face her reflection directly. _I'll change. Wait…no. Forget it._ Shaking her head, Betty continued to peer at herself in the mirror. _Oh my God…is that a pimple? _Angling her chin upwards, she stared into the mirror and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Ugh…why do I even care what I look like? I feel crappy on the inside, so I might as well match it on the outside."

With that, Betty stepped away from the mirror and plopped flat on her bed.

It certainly wasn't the best way to behave on a Monday morning, but Betty couldn't help it. There were two more weeks until Christmas, but she was far from being in the holiday mood. As she lay on her back staring at the bedroom ceiling, several thoughts plowed through her mind: There were articles that needed to be reviewed, photoshoot preparations that needed starting, phone calls that had to be returned, appointments that needed to be made, and last-minute Christmas shopping that had to be finished.

And then there was the situation with Henry.

Betty's heart sank as she closed her eyes and thought back to events from two days prior. Since the moment she had started dating Henry, she had been quietly looking forward to spending the holidays with him. Excitedly, she had planned for them to spend Christmas with her family, and ring in the New Year in Times Square. However, those hopes were quickly dashed when he received a call from Arizona that his mother had fallen ill. Before she knew it, Henry was packing his bags, and they were exchanging early Christmas gifts and goodbyes at the airport.

For the rest of the weekend, Betty tried her best to remain positive and upbeat, especially under the watchful eyes of her sister and father. She knew they would fuss if she behaved unusually in any way, and that was definitely the last thing that she wanted.

_Besides, it's not a big deal_._ I can handle this. _Slowly, Betty opened her eyes and stared once again at the ceiling. _He'll be back soon._

But her heart fell again as she remembered the stark reality of her situation: Henry would come back, only to leave again in approximately four months time.

And then she would be alone again, back where she started…without anyone.

"Aunt Betty, are you done up there?" Justin called out from the living room, breaking into Betty's dismal thoughts. "Grandpa wants you to know that breakfast is ready."

"Okay, I'm coming!" For a moment, Betty closed her eyes and sighed deeply as she took a moment to compose herself. Raising herself from the bed, she patted herself down and walked over to her mirror.

"What's the matter with you? You're not alone," she told herself in a semi-confident voice. "You're a big girl…no, you're a woman, and you can handle this. Yes. You can handle this. And there are more important problems to think about right now – like work and last-minute Christmas gifts and…ew, why is this pimple getting bigger?" Reaching into her purse, Betty quickly took out some cover-up and applied it to her face. As she finished up, she took one more look at her reflection and took a deep breath.

"Relax! Just relax," Betty commanded herself.

Assuming a calm expression, Betty walked down the stairs to find Hilda preparing a footstool near the front door, as Justin stood by with a box in his hands.

"What are you two doing?"

Hilda looked at her sister and smiled. "I'm putting up a few more Christmas decorations."

Betty gave her sister a puzzled look. "More? But we already put everything up. I don't remember missing anything."

"Gina Gambarro came by and gave mom these," Justin replied, shaking the box in his hands.

Betty pulled back the flap of the cardboard box and frowned slightly. _Oh God, no._

"Mistletoe? She gave you mistletoe?"

"Yeah, isn't it great?" Hilda beamed. "She already had ten of them hanging over at her place, so she was nice enough to give me all of her extras."

"Ten? What use could she possibly have for ten mistle – you know what? I'm not even going to ask," Betty shrugged her shoulders. "We're talking about Gina here. I'm sure she wants to cover all of her bases. In fact, she probably has one hanging over each toilet bowl - just in case the Roto Rooter guy pays a visit."

Justin let out a giggle that was quickly silenced when his mother looked at him. "What? That was funny! And it's probably true, too."

Shaking her head, Hilda took mistletoe from the box and turned to her sister. "Well, I'm glad she had some leftovers because now there's some for us."

"And where are you planning on hanging them?" asked Betty suspiciously.

Hilda shrugged as she tied ribbon to one mistletoe branch. "Around the house – in different places. I think I'll hang one each for both doors near the kitchen, and then one by the Christmas tree…and of course, one right here." She gestured with her head towards the top of the front doorway. "That should cover it."

Betty crossed her arms in subtle protest. "You're going to put one right there – where practically everyone walks in?"

"Yeah," her older sister nodded casually. "Why?"

"You can't do that."

"Why not?"

Betty pushed up her glasses and sighed. "Do I have to remind you about what happened last year?"

Hilda's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to recall the past. "Well, let's see…last year, I hung mistletoe at this exact same spot, and everyone benefited – including you. You got kissed a lot last Christmas, remember?"

"Yes – by plenty of strange, random guys who came to our door!"

"Well, not every guy was 'random'," shrugged Hilda lightly. "There was Walter – "

"And the pizza delivery guy, and the Chinese takeout guy, and the sweaty UPS man with the shifty toupee…and hey, some weren't even delivery people! Some of them just showed up with nothing but smiles on their faces. Thanks to you, I think word eventually got around that the Suarez sisters were having some kind of holiday 'free-for-all'!"

"Okay – you're really exaggerating things," Hilda scoffed before giving her sister a sly smile. "And you know, you didn't seem to mind when Tony Deluca dropped off that fruit cake and kissed you on the cheek."

Betty blushed momentarily as she thought back to their cute neighbor from across the street. _Well, he is kind of cute…oh, what am I doing?! _She blinked and stared up at her sister. "Hilda, that's beside the point!"

Exasperated, Hilda dropped the mistletoe back into the box that Justin was holding. "Then tell me, Betty – what is the point?"

"The point is that this little weed has turned into some April Fool's joke in our house, and…well, I don't like it. I think it ruins the Christmas spirit in our home."

"Well…maybe for you…" Hilda mumbled as she and Justin exchanged looks.

"I'm not kidding, Hilda," Betty replied in a calm yet serious tone. "And besides…when you think about it, we're exploiting this weed in a way that was never intended by ancient Scandinavians. I'm sure they'd be appalled by – "

"Whoa, whoa, whoa – ancient Scandinavians?!" Raising her eyebrows, Hilda chuckled as she looked at her sister. "I feel a history lesson coming on."

Betty ignored her sister's sarcasm and continued on. "Mistletoe is based in ancient Scandinavian custom and the Norse myths. Back then, the plant was meant to bring peace between enemies who came across it in a forest. As for the Norse myth, I can't remember it all…something about the god Baldur and the goddess Frigga…"

_Oh, Lord…Henry is definitely rubbing off on her, _Hilda thought as she stifled a yawn.

"Look, forget it." Betty waved her hand in annoyance at her sister's inattention. "I'm just saying that it wasn't meant to be a kissing weed, Hilda."

"Wow…what a bummer," Hilda shook her head in thoughtful amusement. "They didn't use it for anything else except to keep the peace? Too bad I wasn't around back then. I'd really show them how to use these plants to make love and not war."

This time, Justin laughed even louder, earning him a slap on the arm from his aunt.

"Ow!" He exclaimed, as he massaged his arm. "What?! That was totally funny!"

"Okay, we are definitely getting off track here." Crossing her arms, Hilda eyed her sister curiously. "What's really going on with you, Betty? This wasn't even a big deal to you last year." Pausing, she took a step forward and placed a hand on her sister's arm. "Does this have anything to do with Henry leaving town?"

"What? No…no, of course not." Betty suddenly felt an uncomfortable jolt in her stomach, which caused her to back away from her sister. "I told you…I'm okay with that. It's just that I…well, I have a lot of things on my mind…"

Unconsciously, Betty continued to step away from her sister until she stumbled backwards over the coffee table in the living room.

"Oh!"

Justin and Hilda quickly walked over to help her up. "Aunt Betty, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine, but…oh my God!" Betty hastily grabbed a water glass that had fallen over on an open photo album. "Whose is this? I hope it's not ruined."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Justin replied nonchalantly, as he picked up the photo album. "It doesn't belong to any of us. It's Duncan's Broadway scrapbook."

"Please tell me you're kidding." Betty looked worriedly at her nephew as he shook his head in response. "Won't he be mad?"

"Who cares?" Justin shrugged carelessly. "Besides, I consider this karma for what he said to me."

"Karma? I don't understand – what did he say?"

"Well, a few weeks ago, he kept bragging about how his uncle had inside connections to all of the hottest Broadway shows, which meant he could get tickets just like that at a moment's notice," Justin replied, snapping his fingers. "And he gloated that he could even go backstage and meet the actors at any time, whenever he wanted to. That's why he showed me this scrapbook – to prove that he could hobnob with the stars. But he's a total liar."

Betty furrowed her eyebrows at her nephew. "Why do you say that?"

"Look at these pictures, Aunt Betty." Betty watched over her nephew's shoulder as he flipped through some of the damp pages of the scrapbook. "Okay – here he is with some of the ensemble from _The Producers_…and here he is with a swing member from _Mamma Mia_…but they're not even main cast members. And look where these pictures were taken. They're right outside the theater, not backstage! Anyone can get autographs outside – that's nothing special. But do you know what really tipped me off?"

Betty quietly shook her head.

"He's never seen_ Wicked_. I mean, c'mon! If his uncle has connections, then why hasn't he seen it yet? It's been around, for like, forever! I even told him that, and oh my God – he was so ticked off," Justin smirked. "I think he was even more annoyed when I told him I'd be seeing _Wicked_ before him."

_Seeing 'Wicked' before…why would Justin say…oh, no. _Betty gulped calmly before addressing Justin. "Why did you say that, Justin?"

With a sly smile, Justin shut the scrapbook and shrugged innocently. "Well, first of all, I've been a good boy this year, and secondly, I think Santa has connections. So, all in all, I think my chances are good that I'll be able to score tickets soon…and maybe some special behind-the-scenes passes, too – possibly?" He paused, giving his aunt a hopeful smile. "But no pressure – on Santa, I mean! Just seeing the show would be fabulous on its own." With that, Justin smiled knowingly at his mother and skipped off to the kitchen.

Hilda returned her son's smile before turning to her sister, who was now staring wide-eyed at the spot where Justin had just stood.

"Hmm," Hilda hummed, cocking an eyebrow at her younger sister. "Lucky for him, Aunt Santa has connections alright – at Mode."

"Hilda!" Betty turned sharply towards her sister. "It's not that easy for me to get tickets!"

"What do you mean? When you went with Henry, you were able to get orchestra seats for the same night. So, how are things any different now?"

Betty hesitated to answer. After her botched _Wicked_ date with Henry, Betty thought it was best not to mention to her sister that she had been blacklisted and banned from ever seeing the show again. She was sure that if her family had found out about what had happened, she would never hear the end of it – especially from her musical-loving nephew. Banned from _Wicked_? Without a doubt, Justin would consider that a travesty against humanity…and he would probably hate Henry for it, too.

"Well…it's the holidays, so you know…it's harder right now to get tickets to any kind of show," Betty replied cautiously. "And I never told Justin that it was possible to get behind-the-scene passes!"

"Yes, you did, Betty. I was there when you were talking about it. Don't you remember? You said that the secretary – Ana or what's-her-name – "

"Amanda."

"Yeah, her – you mentioned that she could make that happen, but it would cost extra. And you did drop hints to Justin that if he behaved and brought his grades up, then he might get something extra special this Christmas…so, you know…he remembered…"

_Oh, crap. I did say that._ Betty cringed inwardly as she fought the urge to slap her forehead. She had been so involved with Henry and work that her "deal" with Justin had completely slipped her mind. The worst part of it all was that Justin had actually kept up his end of their "bargain". But how would she look if she didn't?

"Um…well, I did have other gifts in mind. Thanks to Christina, I'll definitely be able to get my hands on a blue cable-knit sweater and a leather jacket from Armani that would really fit Justin. That could make up for _Wicked_…right?"

Hilda nodded thoughtfully as she resumed tying ribbon to mistletoe. "Well, let's put it this way: If the sweater and the jacket will get him into the Gershwin to see _Wicked_, then I'm sure he'll be more than happy getting them as gifts."

_Great_, Betty sighed._ So much for being a wonderful aunt this Christmas. _

As Betty reached over and grabbed her blue puffy coat from the coat rack, her mind started to spin as several thoughts came bumbling into her head at once:

Henry…photoshoots…loneliness…Christmas shopping…_Wicked_ tickets…mistletoe…

It was just too much for Betty to handle at the moment. She shook her head as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. _I just need to get to work, and get my mind off of things. Then I'll be fine._

At least, that's what she hoped.

Feeling dazed and slightly annoyed, Betty headed quietly for the front door as her sister watched with concern.

"Betty?"

Upon hearing her name, Betty turned to find her father walking out from the kitchen with a spatula in his hand.

"Your breakfast is still on the table. Aren't you going to have something before you leave?

"No, I'm fine, dad." She plastered on a tight-lipped smile and tapped at her watch. "I'm running a little late. I have to pick up a few things for Daniel on the way to work, and I need to run a few other errands, so I'll just pick up something on the way. Just one of those busy days, you know?"

Ignacio watched his daughter closely as she walked to the door. "Well, you make sure that you eat something, okay? An empty stomach means an empty brain."

"I know, dad, and I will. And Hilda?" Betty turned and gave a pointed look to her sister who was still holding mistletoe. "When I get home, I don't want to see any of that welcoming me at the front door, okay?"

"¡Aye, dios Mio!" Rolling her eyes, Hilda waved a hand at her younger sister. "Fine! I won't hang it here."

"Thank you! Alright…well, I'll see you later tonight at dinner. Love you guys." With a small smile, Betty was out the door.

As soon as she walked out, Hilda quickly grabbed the footstool and placed it underneath the doorway. "Oh, please…what do the Scandinavians know about partying in Queens? One little mistletoe won't hurt – "

"HILDA!" Betty's voice rang out as she peered through the curtains in the front door. "I can still see you! Don't even think about it!"

Stunned by the disruption, Hilda jumped a little, causing the footstool to move slightly. "What? I'm just checking for cracks in the doorway!"

Rolling her eyes, Betty finally walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk, while her father watched from the living room window.

"What's going on with her?"

Getting down from the stool, Hilda joined her father at the living room window.

"Betty just has a lot on her mind, papi," she answered reassuringly, looking over at her father. "Don't worry – her Christmas spirit will return eventually." After giving her father's shoulder a squeeze, Hilda grabbed the stool and the box of mistletoe and turned down the hall.

_Well, I hope it comes back soon_, Ignacio thought worriedly as he watched his youngest daughter walk down the street and out of sight.

* * *


End file.
